The Parley
by SubRosa7
Summary: A parley between Maglor and Cirdan, after Maglor agreed to meet with Cirdan, and give into his keeping Elrond and Elros, the twin sons of Elwing and Earendil.


Title: The Parley

Series: Tales of the First Age; Desperate Hours AU  
Author: Susana  
Disclaimer: All characters and everything else belong to Tolkien,

Summary: A parley between Maglor and Cirdan, when Maglor agreed to meet with Cirdan, to give into his keeping Elrond and Elros, the twin sons of Elwing and Earendil.

A/N: Set in late 538, 539 or early 540 of the first age

**Title: The Parley **

Cirdan the Shipwright, oldest of the elves in Middle Earth, former foster-father and current advisor to the young Aran of the Noldor elves, sighed in relief. Maglor had kept his word.

The dark-haired warrior, a son of Feanor, had the two elflings with him on his horse. The one rode in front of him, the other behind. Cirdan could not tell them apart. He remembered Elros as the bolder of the two, and Elrond as the more observant. But they would not meet his eyes, so he could not even hazard a guess.

Maglor nodded to him. "Lord Cirdan."

"Maglor." Cirdan returned politely. The sons of Feanor had been dispossessed of their titles as Prince and Lord, else Cirdan would have granted Maglor that courtesy. This elf had committed horrible crimes; but in happier days, Maglor had been the greatest singer of their people. And even in the midst of a slaughter, he had saved Elwing and Earendil's young children. Cirdan would show him respect, despite Cirdan's own anger for the terrible acts the sons of Feanor had perpetrated upon his kin and their own.

Maglor assisted the twins to dismount. The children still did not meet Cirdan's eyes. He knelt down to greet them, his soldiers still watching Maglor attentively.

"I am Cirdan, young ones. You may call me uncle, as I was uncle to your father and your mother."

The two dark haired, gray eyed, solemn elflings met his eyes, and seemed unafraid, but not...pleased, either.

"Greet Lord Cirdan, Elrond, Elros." Maglor commanded shortly, but not unkindly. "He has put himself at great risk to come get you. At least nod if you won't speak."

The two children nodded politely enough to Cirdan, then turned to Maglor. The one on the right nodded gravely to Maglor in farewell, the one on the left nodded, then changed his mind and ran to embrace the son of Feanor. Maglor was clearly shocked, but he knelt to receive the affection.

"You'll be better off with Lord Cirdan, Elros." The dispossessed Prince comforted. The little elfling, Elros, still the bolder of the two, nodded, but tears were in his eyes. Elrond, too, seemed...not unfond, of Maglor. Cirdan sighed.

"Let go your oath, Maglor, and I will speak on your behalf to Aran Gil-galad." He offered. Cirdan could hear his guard captain grinding his teeth.

Maglor patted Elros gently on the back, then placed him on the ground by his brother. "Nay, Lord Cirdan. There is no redemption for me."

"We are the first-born. We live forever. In that time, all things are possible, Maglor." Cirdan argued, voice carefully neutral for the sake of this elf's having saved his small kinsmen, though he was furious still.

"Not all things. I have too much blood on my hands. Even they cannot forgive me," Maglor gestured to the twins, "though they have been kind to me in exchange for my care of them. I trust that you can do as well for them, if not better."

Accepting the change of topic, Cirdan promised. "I will do my best for them, out of love for their parents and grandparents. I confess it has been several years since last I visited Elwing. What are they like?"

Cirdan meant, what do they eat, and where are they in their schooling, and most importantly, why are they not talking? But Maglor apparently took his question more existentially.

The son of Feanor frowned at the silent twins thoughtfully. "They're elflings, but with human resiliency and fragility. They're about six years old, but they seem more like ten. That may be lucky - 'twas a week before I found them, and I doubt elflings of six years could have survived so long without parent or caregiver. They, umm, disappear, if you take your eyes off of them for too long. And I think one of them may have the gift of prophecy, because they've been using some kind of...future-telling, or maybe just heightened observation and intuition, to really disquiet my soldiers. That's part of the reason I'm giving them back to you, despite the risk I might get an arrow in the back for my trouble. I don't know how much longer they'd be safe with my people - the elves I rule think the twins are our doom, sent by the Valar upon us. I think the twins did it on purpose."

Cirdan looked at the quiet, non-responsive elflings. They looked much like any other elflings of six or seven. A bit older, perhaps, a bit more like human children. A very adorable mixture, although the frozen expressions on the otherwise cute little faces were a bit...disturbing. Still, "Maglor, aren't you exaggerating? Elflings or human children, they're too young to plan an organized campaign to become so unpopular that their lives were in danger if they weren't returned to their own people."

Maglor looked at Cirdan with an almost sympathetic expression on his face. "They're hard to describe." The warrior and traitor said. "They're like no other beings who have ever lived, and thus are unpredictable. Don't take your eyes off of them, if you can help it.

Elros, moving a shoulder and twitching a foot, silently exclaimed *We're right here.*

Elrond raised an eyebrow and wiggled a finger. *Of course we are. Adults just treat elflings - or children- like dumb animals.*

Elros waited until Cirdan was deep in conversation with Maglor about the twins' refusal to talk, then he puffed out his cheeks and tapped his foot on the ground, which meant *THIS chump is going to be easy to escape. He really believes we can't talk. What a moron.* The twins were in agreement that they did not like Cirdan, because he had helped their Ada, Earendil, build his ship. Then Earendil had sailed away.

Elrond more covertly watched Cirdan as well, before toeing his shoe in the dirt to make a clumsy infinity symbol. He caught Elros' eyes meaningfully, then cautioned wordlessly *Cirdan was Nowe. He's older than dirt. We'll have to be very careful.* The twins were also in agreement that they were better off with Cirdan in Lindon then with Maglor amongst his traitorous followers. The old elf might have helped their father to leave them, but Earendil had gone willingly. Maglor, though he had cared for them, had been one of the elves who had killed almost everyone they knew, and driven their mother away, possibly to her twins planned to look for her, and their father. They did not plan to stay in Lindon with Cirdan for very long.

Maglor bid a final farewell to the twins. Elros spontaneously hugged him again. Elrond nodded gravely again, and extended a hand. As Maglor rode away, he realized that someone had dropped his favorite lute pick, lost since he had found the twins, into his pocket.

(Please review if you enjoyed. Constructive criticism also welcome! And thanks for reading.)

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